Merci Pour Le Venin
by a story to kill me x3
Summary: Triangle: OC HG DM... Merci Pour Le Venin, meaning Thank You For The Venom, a song by My Chemical Romance, is a story about jealousy, alcholism, drugs, rage and misery and hypocrisy, a story about regret and daring, a story about love.
1. Angels Of Unknown

**Author's Fuckin' Shit: **Well, this isn't my first fan fiction, but you know, I try…

**

* * *

**

**PROLOGUE**

_December, 1474 _

He stared into the distance, nearly snow blind as his steed swayed with the wind beneath him. The animal's head was down, its ears back and its tail tucked tight between its legs. Its stature as majestic as its snow flecked gray mane and silver-white hooves.

The man waited, burying his stubbled chin deeper into his coat, watching a rather large hill just peaking above the setting sun. For an hour he gazed upon it, when suddenly, a smile broke onto his face.

A figure appeared atop the hill, glaring at the man from so far away. It crouched, then, for one long moment, it stood up and waved its arms. Left arm counterclockwise, and the right just the opposite. The man let out a whooping cry and a dry laugh as he began to pull on the reins. The horse galloped as the man cried from the sting of the icy wind. His eyes set on the figure, which was still making the gesture; he pushed the horse as fast as it would go.

He grew closer to the figure, which now took the shape of a woman with each passing second. Finally, he arrived a few feet away from her, jumping off his steed with no hesitation. He embraced her and took her into a passionate kiss.

"Christine! I was so worried, I thought you failed to bring the-" she cut him off.

"Do not speak of it here, my love. There could be spies--hidden among the forest. In the shadows they will wait, William, poised and watching our every move."

"You are right. In this time of war between France and Britain we must hide away our love. The British peasant and the French Princess...it cannot be done. So you have the treasure from the cathedral?"

"Yes, I have the treasure. It took me many days and nights to get it, but I am sure it will save us from war. But still, William, you realize we will never be--even after this tragic war," she said most mournfully.

"Oh, Christine. If there is one thing I have learned from this world, it is that if a love is strong enough and is loyal, just and true, then anything can happen, Christine. The sky shall be the limit, and you shall be my bride. We shall rise from the darkness and bring peace to our countries! We will be the best King and Queen the world has ever seen!" he proclaimed.

Christine chuckled and hugged him again, this time slipping something into his coat pocket. "You take it to the cavern, William. I have to go back to my Kingdom... What I mean is, are you sure you want to do this?"

"We were going to do this together, and so we shall," William hopped on his horse and dragged Christine with him. And together they galloped toward the forest. They rode until night fell and the snowfall grew thin.

He got off the animal as Christine followed. "William, are you sure that this place is safe? I hear the stories the peasants tell. They speak of horrible men with the bodies of horses, and of vicious half man and half wolf who attack in the night of the full moon. I fear for our safety, and for the safety of the treasure."

"I am sure that we will be safe here, and as for the treasure, I can scarcely imagine the men who want it to go in a forest with such legends inside it," he finished with a certainty in his tone that didn't quite match his expression. But Christine nodded anyway, trusting in him fully.

They traveled through the forest, hand in hand, both watching for monsters. More than once, William could've sworn he'd seen a pair of looming eyes among the darkness. The branches tore their flesh and clothes, and the cold was almost unbearable until – "William! The cavern!" She wrenched herself from his grasp and ran whole heartedly toward a small hole in the ground through which a single person could pass through at a time.

Christine crawled in and lit a lantern, waiting for William to come down. After about five minutes he arrived before her. "Thank God you are finally here. What were you doing up there, wasting our lantern's light?"

"I was checking to make sure that the pathway was sealed. Let's go now," he finished.

She nodded and led the way toward the end of the passage. There lay a large rock shaped rather like a pyramid. William pulled out a large wooden orb with a strange carving upon it. (A/N: there's a URL in my profile of the carving) He grasped it from its top and Christine did the same. Then they placed the Orb on the top of the pyramid. Everything started to swirl around them when – "WILLIAM!" Christine shouted and she let go of the orb, and spun out back into the cavern. William didn't know what was happening, in all the shock he let go of the orb too. It fell with a clunk to the ground. William looked up to see the enemy.

"You bastard! I'll kill you!" William pulled out a dagger and stabbed the man in his heart. He ran over to Christine, she was breathing but unconscious. He dragged her and himself out of the cavern when out of the darkness—

WHACK!

Hermione slapped herself, how could she be so stupid? How could anyone care about her? She fell back onto her bed crying. Ron was just playing with her emotions, he never liked her, much less _love _her. Ever since he became popular he had become a real asshole, but in Hermione's state of adoration towards the Head Boy, he was Godly.

Hermione thought of the first day of Seventh Year, which was in a week, and groaned, "Aww…Fuck…" She thought about the way Ron had treated her to a strawberry ice cream, and walked her around the meadow in Ireland. They even slept in each other's arms for Christ's sake! Then one day it's, 'Meet my girlfriend Erika, Hermione!' She thought of Erika Sanders. She had nearly waist length blonde hair and cute light brown freckles. And big, huge green eyes with long black lashes. She was gorgeous, how could Hermione ever compete? True, her hair, being past awkward puberty years, was less unruly than it had been. Hermione had always considered herself an inkling above average, until now. Her self esteem was at all time low.

Hermione got up and looked in her bedside drawer for her Diary, and there it was under her 'Hogwarts A History'. She wrote a poem in it (A/N: It's a bunch of My Chemical Romance songs, but I thought it would be cool if she felt this way about Ron);

_Late dawns and early sunsets, just like my favorite scenes  
Then holding hands and life was perfect, just like up on the screen  
And the whole time while always giving  
Counting your face among the living  
Up and down escalators, pennies and colder fountains  
Elevators and half price sales, trapped in by all these mountains  
Running away and hiding with you  
_

_But does anyone notice? But does anyone care? _

_And in saying you love me, make things harder at best  
And it's worst changing nothing as your body remains  
And there's no room in this hell, there's no room in the next  
And our memories defeat us, and I'll end this the rest _

_I miss you, I miss you so far_

_Since we talked alone  
Come angels of unknown  
Come angels of unknown…_

Hermione decided to stop brooding in her own misery and went to the kitchen to have a vodka tonic. (A/N: she has her own apartment) Many glasses of alcohol later, Hermione took a sleeping pill to shut her brain off. Laying on the couch, she stared at the ceiling. "So long and goodnight." She fell asleep.

She dreamed that she was in purgatory, then it twisted into a park and Hermione landed a few yards behind a bench. Someone was sitting on the bench, crying. She saw that it was Ron. She sighed. Ron turned around, expecting to see someone he did not want to see. But he saw her and smiled. He stood up and walked towards Hermione, she started to cry too. He stopped right in front of her, he did not have to say anything—Hermione knew he loved her then. They rested their foreheads on each other and held hands. They were about to kiss when Hermione woke up with a monster headache.

"Oh, crap…" Hermione hated herself for getting drunk, she despised hangovers. Someone was knocking on her door; she discovered it to be the UPS man, for she still lived in a Muggle neighborhood. He gave her a small package from Harry. She thanked him and closed the door. Having a feeling that she was going to barf, she took a trip to the bathroom before she opened the box. Inside there was a letter.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I heard what happened with Ron, he is a fuckhead._

Hermione chuckled.

_Seriously, he should rot in hell for what he did to you. And don't you go blaming yourself for all of this either, Hermione. I know you and I know what you're capable of doing. You are better than Ron, you are above him. I know you can do better. I know you must be feeling pretty shitty right now, so I thought, she could use a gift, right? Yeah… I know, I'm a dork… Well, here you go. Keep on keepin' on, okay? _

_Harry Potter_

Hermione knew what Harry was saying and didn't believe in one word of it. It was all her fault; she was the one who wasn't good enough for Ron. She never should have gone after Ron, he could never think of her as a girl friend. It was her mistake; she was too dumb to know that Ron could never ever like her. Either way, Hermione wasn't one to throw away a gift. She tore off the wrapping paper and gasped. "Oh, Harry! You didn't!" Inside a metal gift case was an emerald green hair clip. It was absolutely gorgeous. She took out the clip and underneath it she found another note from Harry.

_Hermione, meet me at Diagon Alley tonight at ten o'clock outside of the Menagerie. – Harry_

She set down the note and the clip. "Damn… I could have been eating cake by then…"


	2. Live Life To It's Fullest

**Author's Awkward Compliments: **There is something I have to say, because if I don't tell someone I will be at a serious risk to my sanity. There is a hot guy I know named Christian, and he thinks I'm hot too! Whew… You see, I couldn't put it on my Xanga because… well… I don't think I know the reason, but I'm sure it's a good one. And now, Lovelies, back to your daily lives! Off with you! Oh, and, I'm terribly sorry for turning Hermione into a whore in this chapter, but you know, the story begs to be told, and who am I to deny it's wishes?

**Review Responses (No Purchase Necessary, Details Inside):**

kagomesdance: thanks! Me neither… God damn I'm impatient! Haha…

Roxxi05: I _do _love _you_, Darlin'!

karlysemora: I like it too, Karletta. Have fun at your school dance or whatever the fuck it is.

* * *

Hermione went back to her room to take a much needed shower. As she lathered herself she thought of Harry.

_He's not too bad looking… He's actually kinda cute! _

_Wait… Am I rebounding? I don't think so… Holy shit! I _am_ rebounding! That isn't good… I hope I'll have some self control tonight._

Hermione put on a blue camisole, blue jeans and some gray house slippers. She thought of the hair clip and trotted into the kitchen to fetch it. She looked at herself in the mirror, admiring the way the clip shimmered in the lamp light. She didn't bother with makeup, what was the point? Instead, she conjured herself some cocoa and a blueberry muffin. Hermione picked up a copy of _The Daily Prophet _and stared at the cover with a slight frown.

"Oh, that's terrible," she muttered. The paper read:

_Today, the thirtieth of August, Gilderoy Lockhart was found dead in his infirmary bed late this morning. The cause of the death: a very nasty case of laceration to the head, legs and arms. One thing is for certain; the death was no accident. A torn up piece of parchment, with no apparent writing on it, was found at the scene of the crime. Detectives and Aurors alike think that this could be a vital clue._

_The Minister of Magic, Louis Prithus, had this to say; "The reason for the killing is unknown at this point, but some of our detectives say that Lockhart, when still sane long ago, made petty deals with some of the worst wizards…no doubt one of them did this to him."_

Hermione looked at the picture of Lockhart; it _was _a really nasty death. Hermione couldn't stand to look at it any longer and put it down wondering…

_Who would have done something so horrible? _

One name came to mind.

_Malfoy. _

She would speak to Harry about this tonight, maybe they could bring out the old Trio for some more detective work… She laughed dryly and thought of the old days. When everything was just a big mystery waiting to be solved. How fun they came to be, how exciting and exhilarating. But then, they didn't need adventures to be exhilarated anymore. Ron had found drugs; Harry found his love of trying to get all kinds of women, just to see if they would give him their number; and Hermione, well Hermione, she had the drink.

#$&#$&#$&

Hermione's cocoa drained too fast and night came too soon. She wondered why time flew so quickly. At any rate, Hermione put on a black Rolling Stones tee shirt and some black Adidas. She apparated, reluctantly, to Diagon Alley.

She was left waiting outside the Menagerie for about twelve minutes before Harry showed up. He _did _look good. His hair was shaggy and his sense of style had gotten better. "Hello there. Thanks for showing up," she joked as she embraced him.

"So… Um, how's life?" Harry asked.

"Not too good, and you?" she snippily replied.

"Actually, life has been treating me pretty well lately… I met this gorgeous girl named Amanda. She's so cool, too! She's a doctor in the Muggle world, because she's a Squib. We're seeing each other now."

"Joy," Hermione's words soaked with sarcasm. Harry looked at Hermione in a way he had never looked at her before. As if he loved her or something. Like a sister, mind you. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like I'm your bloody pet or something…" Hermione told him as if he was an idiot.

"Oh. Because... I don't know. I care about you a lot. And I feel so bad about this whole thing with Ron--"

"Oh, Jesus! Is this what it's about, now! Can't we just forget about Ron for two seconds! I'm so sick of that asshole. I'm sick of thinking about him, of talking about him, of _dreaming _about him, for Christ's sake!"

Harry looked down at his shoes and muttered an apology. Hermione thanked him for his time, and explained to him that if this was the reason he had called her here tonight, she wasn't interested. She apparated home.

"That was a bloody waste of time…" Hermione said to herself as she reached for the liquor cabinet.

Several hours later, Hermione was doubled over throwing up in a trash barrel. She puked until nothing came out but bile. Vomit caked her hair as she fell asleep, exhausted from the night's events.

#$&#$&#$&

It was September first when Hermione woke up. She hurried her ass to the shower and got dressed. She packed and apparated to the Train Station. Hermione was hauling her luggage down the narrow hallway when someone grabbed her ass. She whipped around to see it was… Draco Malfoy. His face stained with horror as much as hers. He obviously thought it was someone else's ass he was groping. Hermione's shocked face turned into a coy smile. Malfoy was fucking hot this year. Screw the Houses; screw Malfoy's opinions; and damn his vile pure blood; Hermione no longer cared.

She winked at Draco and whispered in his ear, "See you around… Draco." He looked as stunned as ever as Hermione traced his jaw line and walked away. Hermione was proud of what she had done. It felt good to be so-er-friendly to someone she would have normally cursed. It felt so awesome to break the boundaries. She loved the thrill.

Hermione picked one of the compartments near the middle of the train which no one had inhabited yet. She wondered when Harry would get here when suddenly a knock came from the door. It was Malfoy again, this time he had his patented smirk on his face. She opened the door and immediately Malfoy pulled her into a kiss. They started making out for while until—"Hermione! What the hell are you doing!" Harry shouted.

She turned towards him, "Fuck off, Harry." Malfoy sniggered at Hermione's words and kissed her again.

He whispered to her, "See you around, Hermione…" and left. Hermione stared at his ass until he went into his compartment.

"Hermione, what the hell just happened?" Harry asked again.

Hermione thought she should give him an explanation; he was, after all, her best friend. "Well, I thought he was hot this year… So I hit on him. I mean, damn the consequences and damn what everyone thinks of me. I shouldn't be told what to do on other people's opinions. I'll be who I am and I'm just fine with that, thank you."

"I guess you're right. Just be careful with Malfoy, he could hurt you…"

"Now what are you on? That wasn't anything. We're not together or anything now. That was just some fun, Harry. It didn't mean anything. Just like this," Hermione kissed Harry full on and dirty.

When Hermione pulled away, Harry was panting slightly. Hermione giggled. "Holy Hell, Hermione… You can really kiss!" Harry leaned in for more but Hermione swatted him away. She stared out the window at the midday, blue sky. She thought of what life was, and how it affected everyone and what would happen after everyone died. She came up to a conclusion of what to with her chance with life. Her theory was this:

_Live life to its fullest, because remember, the things your scared to do, always turn out to be the most worthwhile. _


	3. I like the idea of being clueless

**Author's Living, Breathing, and Dying Alone: **So, yeah, to all who care, I am very, truly sorry for what Hermione did… Okay, so nothing really going on with Malfoy yet, and there won't be for a right long time so just keep your Black Knights at bay. And what of this new philosophy of Hermione's? Where will we go with this? Personally, I have no idea. But when I come up with one, I shall tell you. And, as an added bonus for you little birdies, I'm going to add a scene (as well as I can remember it) from one of my first fan fictions, enjoy!

**Review Responses (A Public Service Announcement):**

hotpinkfreak: aa to you too.

* * *

The train ride wasn't half way over when a knock came on the sliding glass door. Neither Harry nor Hermione knew who this guy was, but Harry didn't like the looks of him. He had a rather shady look about him, what with his black and shaggy hair and purple eyes. It was, as far as Harry could remember, the only person he had ever seen with purple eyes. On some rare occasions, he met someone with bright yellow eyes, but never purple. This struck Harry as strange, which, again, Harry did not like. The boy was rather good looking, and scrawny like Harry himself. But it wasn't the type of scrawny Harry suffered from – lack of nutrition, countless days shut indoors, etc. – but a naturally awkward look of lankiness. It rather suited him. Harry was intimidated by this boy.

However,

Hermione was intrigued by him. This boy was absolutely gorgeous! He had such a smile on him; Hermione couldn't even believe how beautiful it was… (A/N: Karly, if you are reading this, imagine Christian's smile. Much love - Kathryn.) The boy merely grinned at Hermione through the door before for some moments before he slid it open.

"Hello… My name's Frederick, but everyone calls me 'Dirty Jew'" Frederick joked. Hermione laughed while Harry only scowled. Frederick now looked at Harry with uneasiness, he said to Harry, "That _was _only a joke, you know… And yes, I am Jewish," he added to Hermione, who looked inquisitive about the joke. "Seriously though, call me Derick," he winked at Hermione. "Well, I'm new here as you can tell… And I was wondering if I could sit in this compartment, as it's so empty…"

"Of course you can!" Hermione squealed. He grinned that grin again and sat down across from Hermione. She, meanwhile, took in his style. He was wearing tight, black pants and a black "The Misfits" tee shirt. He also had a studded belt and a lip ring on. 'Wow,' Hermione thought. 'An Emo person in the flesh… Black fingernails, jelly bracelets and all!' He had on some black tennis shoes, and damn did he have big feet! 'We all know what that means!' Hermione chuckled at her own thoughts.

"Are you done staring, Miss?" he interrupted her fun.

She giggled nervously and said, "Well, yes. But I'd rather not just stare…" Derick raised his eyebrows and looked toward the window. Hermione looked too, and saw that it was raining. How she loved the rain…tonight would be a good night. That is, if Derick got in Gryffindor.

And oh yes, lovely readers, Derick did get in to Gryffindor. Everyone at the House table, especially the girls, cheered as Derick ran over to a seat next to Hermione. "WOO! GO GRYFFINDORS!" Frederick raised his arms, completely jubilated. He panted as he spoke to Hermione, "You're pretty."

She dropped her fork with laughter. "You are so weird..." she said chuckling.

"That's what they call me… Hey! Potatoes!" Derick shoved his mouth full of them. Hermione stared at Derick for a while, admiring the way he moved and the way his hair fell onto his face. She sighed and he looked over. "What?" he said.

"You're pretty, too," she rested her head on her hand and looked into his eyes. He mocked her, the little sigh and everything. She slapped his arm playfully and returned to her plate. As we all know, Dumbledore's dead, so, at the usual time The Headmaster stood up to speak at dinner, a new Head Mistress stood up, "Welcome back!" She had a booming voice so loud that everyone jumped.

"Welcome, welcome, welcome! New students and old friends, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!" the woman motioned her hands for everyone to cheer. "My name is Camille Glendora, or Professor Glendora, and I am your new Headmistress. I am most aggrieved about your former Headmaster, most aggrieved indeed… But let me assure you, I could never take his place here, and I don't intend to," Camille paused, tears shining in her eyes; Hermione thought she did seem very sincere. "But if there is one thing I have learned about grief, it is not to dwell on it. Sitting around and thinking about what you don't have will always lead you somewhere wrong. False hopes and yet even more grief will await you there, if you decide to follow the path. And now, off to bed with you all," everyone cheered after this speech, especially Harry, having learned that lesson long ago.

"Wow…" said Derick. "That was really amazing. I'm really sorry about your Headmaster; it must have been horrible for you. I know it would have been for me. My Headmaster at my former school was like a father to me…" his eyes were wide and he looked down at the table. "It really just… just makes you think…"

Hermione grabbed his hand and looked at his expression, thinking about the speech. How could it have affected him so drastically? Hermione pondered the question until Frederick looked up at her. "Let's go do something," he said, shaking off his strange disposition. Hermione was glad to hear this, she was terribly bored. Derick led her behind a tapestry and motioned for her to be quiet. As the noise of the students died away Derick peeked out to see if the coast was clear, and it was. He took Hermione, who was rather giggly, outside, and they ran across the grounds. They collapsed on a hill and looked at the stars above them. Derick pulled out a fag and lit it.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa…" Hermione said. "What are you doing? Smoking isn't allowed, even if we are of age." Derick took no notice and simply put a cigarette in her mouth. "Oh, fine…" Hermione gave up. Derick lit her fag and they sat up. He looked over at her and grinned.

"So, what do you Hogwarts girls' do for fun?" he said, still smiling.

"Well… Normally, we have a fag and sit on a hill. But, as I've shown you that… What do guys like you do for fun? And hey, where did you come from anyway? Like, what school?"

"Drakenson's Academy of Magic and Mystery… It was a dumb school, really. All the teachers were hateful and cruel; the kids there were always on crime sprees. It was just horrible. I'm much happier here," he took a puff of his cigarette, "and what did we do for fun…? Hmm… We mostly just listened to music and talked. Sometimes we skated a bit, but not really. We were part of the more laid back group."

"Okay… Can I ask you something?"

"Go right on ahead. Shoot."

"Exactly how deep are you? I mean, how much is there that we don't know? Or at least, that I don't know." Hermione asked bluntly but still gracefully.

"There is much you don't know, young one. But you will learn with some training," he inclined his head in a bow sort of motion, "may the force be with you."

"Oh shut up!" she kicked his shoe lightly. "But wait, you know about Star Wars? Are you a Muggle Born?"

"No, I'm pure down to my bones. It's just that I wish I could be a Muggle, it seems so much easier, ya know?" he fell on his back again, star gazing.

"It's not, I was a Muggle for the first eleven years of my life, and it's no joy ride. Why on Earth would you want to be normal?"

"Because I like the idea of being clueless, just like lost. Seeing strange things and not knowing what happened to cause them. Just being completely ignorant to the rest of the world… I love not knowing." He took another puff, "What I mean is, don't you ever feel that way?"

"No. I'm the opposite of you. Well, I don't want to be. I'm sick of hiding behind books and always knowing the answers, I'm sick of being me."

"Well," he propped his head up, "there are two options, one is, you can either accept who you are and get on with your life," Hermione looked sour at that suggestion, "or you can change," he said simply, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

"Change? Like how?" she asked him.

"Well, you could start with your appearance, and maybe the rest will follow," he paused, "and seriously, girlfriend, those shoes have just _got _to go!" She laughed and thought of what she wanted to look like. She definitely did not want to be Emo, and not Gothic, and not Preppy… What could she be besides a nerd? Then it came to her… '_Derick will know. I will be what Derick thinks looks cool, cause I don't care about anyone else's opinion… So I'll just take his and run with it._'

"What direction should I go with this change, Derick?" Hermione asked.

"I'm not too good with fashion… Maybe you could be punk?" Hermione thanked him for his suggestion and snuggled him. "We'd better get back or they'll lock us out. C'mon." He got up and yanked her with him. They walked back to the big, wooden doors and said nothing all the while. When they made it to the Portrait of The Fat Lady she was asleep. Derick pulled out a Sharpie and drew a mustache on her. Hermione giggled and said, "Powdered Lognick." The painting swung open, still asleep, and Hermione and Derick crawled in. "So this is it… The Gryffindor Common Room. Ours was much gloomier – and we didn't have a fire or any comfy cha-" he meant to have said 'chairs', only Hermione cut him off with a spectacular kiss. "Holy shit," he exclaimed.

"Good night, Derick," she said as she scurried up the stairwell. By this time, she had long forgotten her problems with Ron. It didn't hurt anymore, but she knew that if she saw him, much less with his _girlfriend_, that things would end up messy. And that wouldn't do at all, now would it?

Derick stood love struck in the Common Room. "What a woman!" he said to no one in particular. Derick trudged up to his Bedroom, only to meet someone along the way. "Oh, hi Harry… What are you doing up so late?"

"What were _you _doing up so late?" Harry spat.

"I was out with Hermione; she really is a fantastic girl. I'm dying to know more about her," Derick said.

"Well, you just watch your back. Because if you hurt her…lemme put it like this, you _don't _want to hurt her. Or you will have me to deal with. She got hurt once already by some heartless bastard, and she's just now getting over the ordeal. But I suppose it's because you like her… So don't fuck things up, or I'll be waiting…"

"Okay then," said Derick. "I won't, I could never harm a girl that beautiful, on the inside or out. You don't have to worry about me, I'm an okay guy."

Harry turned around and walked up the stairs, "Yeah, we'll see…"


	4. This Kid Is Unbelievable

**Author's Thermal Underwear: **I love you guys. And by "you guys", I really mean me. But seriously, you guys are just great. And one more thing, go listen to a band called "Depswa". They are really cool. - Kathryn

Hermione awoke feeling rather excited, she always loved the first day of school. But just to soothe her jitters, Hermione sipped a bit of brandy out of a flask. She hopped in the shower and thought of what sort of make up she should put on to look punk. Suddenly, someone called her name, while she was in the shower of course.

"Hermione!"

"Yes, Ginny," Hermione answered, still shaving her legs.

"Do you think Harry likes me?" Ginny asked, sounding pouty and in need of comfort.

"Honestly, Ginny?"

"Well, yes, of course."

"He has his eye on that Ravenclaw girl… You know the one… What's her name?" Hermione said rudely, though she did not mean it to sound so mean.

"You mean that slut Lily Peterson?" said Ginny angrily, who was rather upset.

"She's no slut," Hermione said, now out of the shower and wrapped in a towel. "She's cool. She's a nice, respectable girl. Why ever would you think that she was so crude?"

Ginny huffed and leaned against the sink. "I don't know, I guess I was just mad or something… But she is a very pretty girl. I wish I were that beautiful…" Hermione thought about Lily. She really was a classic beauty, she had long and wavy brown hair, and brown eyes with a hint of black in them. She had cute little freckles and was just the right height for about any man. And her smile (A/N: Haha, what is it with me and stealing people's smiles? At any rate, Karly, imagine Sara's smile or my sister's, kay? Much love – Kathryn) was big and white, with perfectly straight teeth. Though, her naturally pink lips and bone structure were her best qualities.

Ginny sighed and said, "I think I'll go down to breakfast now… _Thanks_, Hermione."

"Don't mention it," Hermione was piling on mascara and black eyeliner. Then she finished it with brown eye shadow near her lashes, and then transitioning it to a sort of pink color. She would dye her hair later tonight, then she'd test out her sewing skills, magical of course, and try to make some punk rock knee-highs'.

Derick finally found his way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. He chowed down on some eggs and bacon and waited for Hermione to come join him. And then she walked through the doors; she lit up Derick's eyes. She had, apparently, made some fittings on her robes. They fit her body now, and the skirt was shorter. Her hair was in light waves and slight curls; she was more beautiful now that ever. Everyone took a brief moment to glance at her, though it wasn't too big a deal. But Hermione knew that when she dyed her hair, it would be.

Draco took particular notice in Hermione's new appearance. "Damn that woman is fine," Draco said aloud.

"Man," Blaise said. "Ever since you kissed that Mudblood bitch you've had this obsession with her. It's starting to bug the shit out of me. Knock it off."

"What? I'm not obsessed with her! I could never be infatuated with a Mudblood know-it-all. Even one with big, pouty, lips and long, soft hair. And damn, look at the legs on her! And don't get me started on the rest of her--"

"Shut the hell up! Ya know what, I'm going to class…" and Blaise left.

"Fine, fine…" said Draco with a feeble wave of his hand, his sight never leaving Hermione.

She sat down next to Derick, knowing full well that Draco Malfoy was staring at her. She rather enjoyed the attention, but knew it wasn't meant to be. She kissed Derick good morning and helped herself to a bagel. Hermione looked over her schedule, then Derick's. "Great," Hermione huffed.

"What?" said Derick.

"We have double potions with Slughorn! Harry's always showing me up in class… and, hey, I've never asked you, what were you like with grades?"

"Well, at first, I made straight A's. Then when things got harder I got worse. And then, one special year, I discovered the wonders of emo. And now you see the C minus student who stands before you." Hermione chuckled.

'_This kid is unbelievable…' _she thought.

all dreams end…

Christine awoke, her vision blurred and William nowhere to be found. She looked all around for the girl and the boy who talked of "potions". Her eyes masked with confusion, she ran into the woods screaming, "William". When her feet failed her and she fell to the mossy earth, after laying there for quite some time, she noticed something on the ground a few feet in front of her. What was it? A stump? An animal? She had to know. With all her might she reached for the object; her hands closed around it. It took her brain a few extra moments to process it, as soon as her mind quickened and her strength returned to her, she leapt to her feet and sprinted swiftly through the forest, as quietly as an elk or a deer. She practically flew with grace and anyone could have marveled at her speed, that is, if anyone had been around to see her.

She ran and ran, never speaking or taking time to rest; silent tears fell from her eyes and down her face. They flew through the wind and splashed to the ground and soaked into the earth. Where they lay out grew daises and lilies and trees and plants of all sorts you could imagine. Soon the dark and dreary forest grew with greens, reds, yellows, blues, oranges, magentas, whites and light browns. But when she passed and her tears were all soaked away, the plants died and returned to their normal deathly appearance.

When she could run no longer, Christine leapt into a clearing and stumbled to her knees. She cried, still more, hushed tears dropped to the dirt covered forest floor. She held the object in her hand firmly as a massive tree grew beneath her. She rose as it grew; it was the tallest tree in the forest. It towered above all other trees as they cowered in their roots. Just as the others, this tree died too. And Christine found herself on a stump. She sat there quite alone for a while until a rustling came from just the left of her clearing. She jumped up on the stump crouched and poised. She drew her stout sword from its sheath which was covered in black blood from her last encounter with an enemy. The sword was a rarity, with gold embroidery twisted around its hilt, and the tempered blade felt cool to the touch.

The rustling continued, growing stronger every second. Until finally Christine flew over to where the noise came from, intending to kill whatever would come out. She could hear the twigs breaking from under the thing that ran so blunderingly. She saw blood falling in front of her. The thing came out of nowhere and Christine, on impulse, stabbed the poor creature in its stomach. She pulled the sword out and kicked over her kill. It was a Fawn she believed. It was a sort of creature she only heard of in Greek Myth and old wives' tales. Yes, it was a Fawn. It had the lower body of a goat and the upper half of a stinky, old man. Christine saw it as a rather nasty thing; against her religion. What was it running from? In her excitement, she did not hear the other pair of footsteps following the Fawn's. William clambered out of the wilderness. "Christine, you fool!"

"What have I done? I killed this horrible creature that was against my faith and beliefs! I have done nothing wrong!"

"You have killed my guide, Christine. You have murdered not a creature of sin but a creature of God himself. You have killed me and even yourself in our pursuit of the future! You fool. You must not go about killing whatever may cross your blade," he shook his head in shame towards the ground.

"I-I am sorry, William. I did not know this Fawn served you a purpose. Find it in your heart to forgive my doltishness," she looked at the ground and a few tears slipped to the soil and a single rose grew.

"God knows I forgive you, Christine. I love you," William said as he watched the rose wilt. "What is wrong with your tears?"

"I do not know. It happened when I found your hat in a smaller clearing a ways back that way," she pointed to her right.

"Well, I have not the time to ponder this question. We must leave this place. We will come back another day in another month," said William. "But we have no guide out of the forest… Christine, do you think you could weep enough so that you could rise on a tree and point us the way out?"

"I think I could try…" Christine thought of horrible things. Of the wars in her country and her mother's hardships with her father. Soon enough, the tears were again falling to the ground. She rose again on the stump and saw the way out. It was to the north and then to the west. They traveled a good few hours before they even saw the light of day now upon them.


End file.
